


Not a Pipe Dream

by sardonicplague



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Drabble, Late Night Conversations, Love Confessions, M/M, Overuse of semicolons, POV Third Person, Swing Set
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 20:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sardonicplague/pseuds/sardonicplague
Summary: Under the pale 3am moonlight, and the scrutiny of unapologetically honest eyes, Jaemin can’t seem to find the line between dream and reality.





	Not a Pipe Dream

**Author's Note:**

> i listened to the entire “A Different Age” album by Current Joys on repeat while writing this, so make of that what you will... it’s literally just post-panic attack word vomit, read at your own peril...

He doesn’t remember how they got here; swinging softly on the rusted swing-set of the old park where they first met, blanketed under the 3am sky, the spring breeze combing ever so gently through his hair. 

He can’t recall the conversation they had before they got here, can’t remember when the silence started—all he really knows is how loud his heart is being, how it seems to beat faster the longer the silence extends.

It’s not exactly uncomfortable, but it’s also not very comforting. Usually, their silences are calm and collected; familiar, like they’ve said everything that needed to be said. This one, though, feels particularly outstretched and distant; unknown, like it overstayed its welcome. And somewhere, deep down, he knows what it means, what it holds, but he chooses to ignore that incessant feeling knawing at his gut—ignorance, after all, is bliss.

And then he’s pulled out of his trance with a sudden, not-so-delicate flick to the head, and a smiling Renjun. And, wow, okay; when did he get so close? He smiles back, a bit dazed.

Renjun walks closer, until he’s standing between Jaemin’s legs, still smiling down at him. Jaemin takes it in slowly, his mind a bit fuzzy over the realization that: yes, this is real. He follows Renjun’s movements like a puppy, forgetting to breathe every time his brain recounts their proximity.

Renjun kneels then, so that he’s looking up at Jaemin instead, and Jaemin swears his heart’s about to flatline. He wants to look away, focus on the moon, or the grass, or the peaceful anthill next to the slide; he wants to focus on anything but Renjun’s piercing eyes. (He can’t; he doesn’t.)

Renjun takes Jaemin’s hand, placing it flat over his chest, ingenuous gaze somehow more intense than before. “Do you feel that, Jaemin? How fast my heart is beating right now?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Jaemin could only stare, wide-eyed and confused. But he nodded nonetheless, because he _can_  feel the way Renjun’s heart races under his palm. It‘s calming, relaxing almost, to know he isn’t the only one who’s heart is threatening to burst out of the confinements of his chest.

Renjun sighs, squeezing his hand tighter, eyes near-sparkling under the moonlight. “It’s only ever like this when I’m with you. It’s like - I see you, and then my body goes apeshit, y’know?” (He does know.) “And then I don’t know how to act - hell, I forget how to _breathe_ , sometimes. And I hate it, and it’s fucking terrifying. Do you get that?” He whispered the last part, and Jaemin could _feel_ his vulnerability.

Renjun’s gaze, however, is driving Jaemin’s heart straight into the ground; its sincerity is downright petrifying. He wants to say something, anything; perhaps mention the fact that he’s been madly in love with him for, like, his whole life.

But he continues to stare blankly at Renjun, as if that’s all he knows how to do - because that’s all he can do, in this moment, for some reason.

“What I’m trying to say, is... That I...” Renjun closes his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. He cups Jaemin’s face, reveling in the softness of his puffy cheeks. Jaemin’s hand falls flat at his side, useless as Renjun brings their foreheads together. He smiles softly, Jaemin knows he does, even if he doesn’t dare to look. 

“I love you, Na Jaemin... I am in love with you.” And his eyes flutter open again, scrutinizing him _again,_ with their stupidly genuine look. He wishes it was a joke, a dumb prank, a fucking pipe dream. 

But somewhere, somehow, he knows that it isn’t, and all he can think is: ‘What the _fuck_. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what—‘

“What the fuck.” Jaemin’s voice was meekly, afraid even. If Renjun hadn’t been literally in his face, he would’ve missed it. 

Renjun smiled softly, releasing a sigh, caressing his cheeks gently with his thumbs; his eyes not once leaving Jaemin’s, unrelenting and warm, coated with sincerity. 

“You don’t have to say anything... I don’t care if you reciprocate. I just needed you to know, because it’s been eating me alive for a while now, and if I went one more hour without telling you, I’d probably explode... So, yeah - make of it what you will.” he says, nonchalantly; like he didn’t just send Jaemin’s heart plummeting down the likes of the fucking Burj Khalifa. Then, he smiles, picking himself up, eyes still not wavering. “I love you.”

He laughs, taking Jaemin’s limp hand into his own, pressing a soft kiss on his knuckles. Jaemin can only watch as it happens, eyes still wide and wary—afraid he’ll wake up from this pipe dream if he so much as blinks, because it’s not real. It can’t be. Things like this, they don’t happen to people like him. 

“I love you!” Renjun says (yells) and he’s laughing still—giddily, fond. It’s a good sound on him, Jaemin thinks; giddiness. 

And, then, as surely as he’d been there, he‘s gone. And Jaemin’s hand burns where he kissed it, and he’s sure his body is nothing but a pile of goo, and all the words he was dying to say die at the tip of his tongue. And then he can only sit, waiting for his brain to catch up; to process what just happened - the reality of it. 

Huang Renjun loves him. Not pipe dream Renjun, not daydream Renjun, not night-dream Renjun, but real life Huang Renjun. The one who fights pigeons outside of ice cream shops because they stole his bread; the one who spends his entire allowance on shitty glow-in-the-dark stars for his baby cousin who’s scared of the dark; the one who pretends he doesn’t care about anyone, but secretly goes above and beyond for the people he cares about. 

Huang Renjun, _his_ Renjun, is _in_ love with him—he has been for a while. 

Jaemin can’t breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> i’d like to expand on this short-fic but idk if anyone would want that lmao.. anyways! sorry u had to read this hot garbage i haven't slept in days and my mental health is deteriorating :D


End file.
